The Journal
by Lightish Red
Summary: Over a decade after POTS, a journal is sent to Kel as current Lady Knight Commander of the King's Own. She slowly reads it and learns what an influence her life has had on the world. The journal belongs to none other than the first woman of the Own.
1. The Journal

_Author's Note_: This is a new story that I came up with last night before I went to sleep. I really like it, and I think it will be really original and interesting if it takes off. This is a short beginning, and I would appreciate your feedback to know if I should continue.

_REVISED and UPDATED beginning 15 August 2007_.

**The Journal**

Kel leaned back into her plush desk chair and rubbed her throbbing temples. It was only mid-afternoon and she was already behind on all of her paperwork, as evidenced by the desk before her covered in neat stacks of parchment and a row of bound field reports that she had not even begun to sort yet. Her eyes drifted around her large but sparse office—a fireplace on one wall, a long table with eight chairs off to the right, and a door straight across from her. The bare walls had been tastefully decorated in tapestries, two were peaceful forest scenes and on the third, an ancient battle unfolded across the cloth.

She had occupied this office for a little over a decade and had yet to add any personal touches. It still did not seem right to take over the space even after this many years. It had long belonged to her mentor and friend Lord Raoul before he had resigned his post as Commander of the King's Own and recommended Lady Knight Keladry for the job. She accepted, of course, and set about making administrative changes to bring this elite force up to the times.

Kel sighed and ran a hand through her chin length hair. It was already sprinkled with grey even at her tender age of thirty-two. The knight herself wondered if it was a trait from her prematurely grey mother or simply stress-related. It had taken nine years to open the Own to women, three more than after the Tortallan Army integrated. Sometimes she almost regretted it. Kel estimated that she had almost twice as much paperwork with more policy complaints, reassignment letters, marriage requests, and the list went on and on for both sexes. But in her heart, the Lady Knight knew she had done the right thing and her suffering was nothing compared to others.

Her eyes roamed over to an odd presence on her desk. The leather bound journal was an anomaly amongst parchment papers, lying alone on one corner of the tabletop. It had been found by one of her soldiers and sent up through the chain of command all the way to her hands. The note that had accompanied it had been disappointingly brief and vague:

_A document of some interest to you, Kel. –Dom_

Domitan of Masbolle was the Captain of Third Company and the only one who could have gotten away with such informality because of their history together, their youthful romance that had lasted only a few months at the end of the Scanran War. Now they remained good friends despite the military hierarchy.

On an impulse, Kel reached out and grabbed it, opening the journal to the first page. Her eyes lowered, and she began to read immediately.

* * *

_No one thought we'd show up. The women of Tortall are too pure and proper to join an army, abandoning their families for a life of battle and blood, disease and death, and worst of all, impropriety. Funny how those uppity conservatives only think of commoner women as respectable when it helps their argument because it certainly doesn't work when a poor common girl is forced into an alley by a drunken nobleman._

_But of course nobles also forget about girls like me—maybe it helps them sleep better at night. I am eighteen years old with no family, no home, no skills, and no money. I can read and write only because I lived near one of those schools that Queen Thayet established for commoner children. When the crown starts handing out money—in amounts that I've never held in my entire life—you take it. Sure it means risking my neck for a country that doesn't give a damn whether I live or die, but what have I got to lose? I'll get food, shelter, training, coin, and if it comes to it, someone to lay me in the ground._

_I'm ahead of myself now. Grandmum always said I was too quick for my own good. I should explain how I got here. My life was—_

* * *

A knock on the door shook Kel out of the diary. She reluctantly closed the book and set it back on the edge of her desk before calling, "Come in!" The Captain of First Company, Riagan, stepped forward with another bound packet of field reports and the Lady Knight groaned inwardly. She stood to receive him, taking the thick package from him and waving a hand at the chair before her desk. "Make yourself comfortable, Captain. I wasn't expecting you for another week. How does the coast look?" she made herself ask as she sat down again. The book would have to wait. 


	2. The Past

_Author's Note_: Thank you all for your warm response! This will not be a long story, but I hope it sheds light on Kel's work and her far-reaching influence on Tortall. Please excuse my mistaken spellings--it has been a long time since I have read the books. And of course the Tortall universe belongs to Tamora Pierce :)

**The Past**

It was well after dark before Kel could even glance at the journal. A palace servant had come and gone, bringing a tray of food and lighting the fireplace and a few candles. Riagan had left only moments before, finally finished reporting on his company's rebuilding efforts on the southern coast that had been devastated by numerous strong hurricanes in the past few months. Magic was suspected in the "attacks," but the Lady Knight had no expertise in that area, so she focused on helping the people recover. After that discussion, the captain had asked her for advice and how to settle some disputes among his soldiers.

The First had been the last to introduce women into their lines. Kel had chosen Third to begin integration mostly because she knew Dom and many of the older men personally and recognized that they would treat competent female soldiers fairly since they had worked closely with her so often. That experiment, obviously, had gone well enough that the new policies had spread to the other companies. First was just having a more difficult transition than the others. Reports of harassment and fighting had dropped significantly since Captain Riagan had been promoted almost a year ago. The Lady Knight had learned of his reputation for fairness when he was only a Sergeant, keeping his own squad in line with the changes. The man's sister had joined the King's Own soon after, so Kel felt assured that he would continue to work toward everyone's best interests.

Yet, he had been having problems controlling the hostilities among newer recruits, young people from the ravaged coast who had joined eagerly for the coin to help their families. These smaller towns were less open to change—especially in allowing their daughters and sisters into harm's way—and more than once the men of the Own had been forced to defend themselves from angry fathers and brothers who accused them of stealing young maidens for their own pleasure.

Kel had penned a decree to be distributed in communities throughout Tortall that spoke of her commitment to the equal protection and treatment of _all_ of her soldiers, but in the back of her mind she had already resigned herself to years more of similar conflicts. Until enough women joined and proved themselves as fighters, the problems would remain.

But in some ways, the commoners were changing faster than the nobility. Although many claimed to support her, few would put their promises into action. Only three girls had tried for their knighthood after her; two had dropped out as pages from the stress, and the last one only made it to her squire years before her parents made her leave to get married. Each loss had been a personal blow to Kel but also a spur to work harder for women in the armed forces.

With that thought, she again reached for the leather-bound book on the edge of her desk. Standing stiffly from her desk chair, she moved to the more comfortable seat before the fire, propping her booted feet on the footstool. Delicately, she folded back the cover for the second time and picked up where she left off.

* * *

_I'm ahead of myself now. Grandmum always said I was too quick for my own good. I should explain how I got here. My life was a simple one—although not an easy one—starting in Port Caynn. When I was seven, my ma died giving birth to what would have been my younger brother if the babe had survived. My da sent me to his mother, my Grandmum, in the northern coastal town of Zephyr near the border with Scanra since he knew nothing about raising little girls. He was a butcher by trade but had a certain fondness for gambling. He ran up more debts than he could ever pay so he eventually chose to offer me as part of his payment. I was given to a mob boss in Port Caynn (I won't say his name here because he really was rather kind to me, kinder than many others have been) and then turned over to his son. I guess my looks were enough to be his wife, so I was married at the age of fourteen. Maybe I should count myself lucky that I was made a wife instead of a whore, but at least with the latter I would have some money._

_Maybe I could have been happy—I don't know. Some people are happy with less than I had. It was an easy life, if not a very fulfilling one. The wife of a boss's son doesn't have to work; she just has to look pretty and continue the family line. That was the trouble because after four years I could not produce a child. A healer pronounced me barren. It's funny how a barren mare can be kept to do work. No one leaves it to die because it is still useful to have around. But if a woman cannot have children, she is abandoned and shamed—the same as a death sentence in this world. Her labors can never match the worth of strapping young sons._

* * *

Kel sighed in awe. This story was so foreign from her own life but still so familiar. The same conservative attitudes that had held this woman captive had worked against the Lady Knight since her page days. These same old-fashioned ideas caused the Commander of the King's Own so many headaches to this very day. And the words themselves were so entrancing, so frank and honest without a hint of sentiment or self-pity for what Kel considered a more than difficult life. She read on, eager to learn who exactly this woman was.

* * *

_I was sent home to Zephyr in the boss' coach and left at my Grandmum's door. I soon learned that the elderly woman had found her grave soon after hearing that my da had been murdered by another boss whom he was indebted to—unfortunately for him, I was his only daughter and I had already been traded. Without any other options, I headed for the nearest brothel. I was one block away when I heard the most beautiful words of my life being yelled into the busy street, "Women of Tortall, the Crown needs you! Lady Knight Commander Keladry of Mindelan has opened the King's Own to women. Join up! Ten pieces of silver to start!"_

_I quickly found the source of those gods-blessed words—a young man dressed in a blue and silver uniform with a sword by his side. In the next few seconds I thought rapidly. I could once again be clean and nicely dressed like him. I could learn to wield weapons and fight since I would be of no use for anything else. I walked up to that man in my ragged, travel stained dress and said that I'd join._

_He looked me over. I had no muscles—I already said I never worked as a wife. I was dirty and worn from my recent abandonment. He didn't laugh though. He asked if I had any weapons training and I said no. He asked if I was running from my husband and I said no, that I had no one to miss me. He nodded curtly and gestured to the tavern behind him, telling me to sign up inside. It was that easy._

* * *

Now the knight's eyes were straining to read further in the flickering firelight, and she reluctantly shut the journal once again. If she was going to meet Yuki and some other ladies for _shusuken_ practice in the morning, she needed to get some sleep. Kel laid the book back in its place and blew out the candles, leaving the office for her own suite of rooms and her empty bed. 


	3. The Determination

_Author's Note_: I want to thank my reviewers up to this point--redwolfeyes, Kelly Masbolle, Sarra's wildchild, I am the forgettable one, Salma-sol, Lela-of-Bast, GinaStar, ChrisEleven, and Darking Girl. You guys are the reason I knew I had to continue. And thanks to Tamora Pierce for giving us all such a great world and interesting characters to play with.

**The Determination**

Kel shuffled though paperwork all the next afternoon. The journal lay taunting her from the corner of her desk, causing her eyes to wander over every few minutes. She forced herself to sign one last round of supply orders and only then allowed herself a reward. The Commander reached for the book and flipped to the last page she had read, easily picking up the story again.

* * *

_I walked into the almost deserted room of the King's Arms—how appropriate a name. The only people there were five more blue-and-silver soldiers and two waitresses who flirted shamelessly with four of them. The fifth sat on the opposite side of the table I approached. He asked if I was there to enlist and I told him yes. His eyebrow rose when he took in the sight of me, but he didn't argue. He directed me to make my mark on a piece of parchment. I wrote my name out, which seemed to surprise him. He gave me five pieces of silver from a money pouch. I looked at him questioningly—the man outside said ten. Had I already made a dire mistake, joining a band of liars? He smiled a little at my confusion and told me that I would get the other five that night if I showed up to leave for training in Corus. I nodded and left._

_I've never been religious, but I went immediately to the temple of the Goddess and gave three of my silvers to her in thanks for saving me from a life in a brothel. I bought myself two meat pasties at a stand to quiet my grumbling stomach and then wandered the town where I had grown up until night fell and I had to find the tavern again. The man who had given me the money earlier was waiting. I found his blue uniform and dirty blonde hair at a corner table. He stood and counted out the rest of my money, his gloved hand dropping the coin into my dirty bare palm. _

"_Where are the others?" I asked him. They had gone back to camp, he explained. I clarified, "No, the other women who enlisted." He smiled sadly, and his warm brown eyes met mine, "Let's go. It's only a short ride outside town." I followed him to two tacked horses. Luckily, my husband had taken me riding, so I was able to pull myself up and sit the horse, my mud hemmed skirt hiked up to my knees. The man led without a word, trotting steadily only half an hour out of town. The camp was at the edge of a forest; orderly rows of pitched tents and picketed horses showed that it was a military group not an illicit one. I gave my horse over to a waiting soldier and followed the blonde man to an empty tent at the end. He told me that it was mine and that we left at daybreak the next morning._

_It wasn't until I had crawled into the bedroll inside that I realized I was the only woman there, the only one who had enlisted._

_As I lay in my tent wondering what had possessed me to join, I overheard two men conversing. I doubt they realized that they were by my tent since they were discussing me so frankly. "Doesn't look like much... Did you just pick her up off of the street?" one man said._

"_No, she's the only one who came to us in the three days. Captain was insistent that we take someone—anyone—since the other towns haven't drug anyone up either."_

_The first man laughed. "Well, at least this way she'll drop out sooner and we can stop wasting our time with this stupid 'recruiting'. Maybe then our _Lady_ commander will get the hint." The stress on the 'lady' sent a stab of anger coursing through my body. How dare those men insult Lady Knight Commander Keladry of Mindelan! Ten times a hero than they would ever be fighting Immortals and Scanrans! I think that moment is when I stopped questioning myself, knowing that this was not just about me needing somewhere to go or something to do. What I was doing was for the Protector of the Small and all women warriors that men mocked frankly and in their private conversation. I was determined to prove myself like Lady Keladry had done._

* * *

Kel looked up from the book and gazed across the room into the tapestry of a battle. She had become a knight because she was a good fighter and she had wanted to fight for her country. The lady knight never originally planned to start any grand scheme to change women's lives but nonetheless ended up doing so. She set a precedent for girls being openly accepted in the knighthood that the Lioness had not been able to do, as evidenced by the long gap between their knighthoods and Kel's probation year. Even as those girls failed to make it through the full eight years, she opened doors for women in the King's Own which were now slowly being accepted and widened.

But now it seemed that she was some sort of personal inspiration for one particular woman, something that Kel had vaguely known but had never been so confronted with before; the proof was there in her hands written in rough ink letters. She was called 'the Protector of the Small'; there were songs and stories about her; people looked up to _her_ of all people. But no one had ever blatantly said to her 'I do this because of you.'

She scanned the last few lines again, letting the words sink in before she continued.

* * *

_That night I had a dream about a huntress woman who was beautiful and strong and told me that I had to fight on. I can't remember any of the details, but I woke at exactly the right time the next morning to take my tent down by watching the men doing it next to me. All of the blue-and-white soldiers in the camp gave me strange looks, muttering things to each other, but none said anything directly to me._

_My blond-haired recruiter found me folding up my tent and looked mildly surprised—either because I was up and about already or maybe just because I was still there, I don't know. He then introduced himself properly as Orri Smythson from near Pirate's Swoop. He said the captain wanted to see me. I looked down at my muddy and rumpled dress and could only imagine what my hair looked like after a night on the ground. He must have taken my meaning and led me to a water bucket to wash my face before taking me to the captain's tent._

_The man behind the desk had dark hair and bright blue eyes. His countenance was friendly when he stood to greet me even though when he looked up at me he was a little taken aback, I suppose. He probably thought that some warrior woman would show up to his summons, and instead he got me._

_He shook my hand and introduced himself as Captain Domitan of Masbolle. He told me that Commander Keladry—he called her Kel, but I can't think to be so informal even in writing of her—was proud that I had answered her call to join. He wanted me to know that he was there to help me in any way possible and to report any misconduct to him directly. I was to be sent to the main training camp of the Own as soon as we reached Corus in a few days. He called for me to be given a spare uniform so I could take off my dirty clothes and look official and then dismissed me. I liked him. He seemed more in support of my presence rather than just tolerating it like his men._

_When I changed into that blue-and-silver tunic minutes later, I realized that I was a part of the King's Own whether or not I or anyone else liked it._


	4. The Camp

_Author's Note: _I already have the rest of the story written out so I certainly will update. I just don't know how long I'm going to wait between updates... Again, many thanks to Tamora Pierce for her wonderful characters of Tortall, and thanks to Salma-sol for picking up my oversights as well :)

**The Camp**

_The seven day march to the capital was uneventful. No one approached me except Orri Smythson who showed me by example what to do: take down my tent each morning, wash my face in the trough, grab a roll for breakfast, march until noon, eat a pasty, march until evening, set up my tent, find dinner from my assigned mess around a campfire, and bed down without having said more than two words to anyone all day. We went at a brisk pace to bring me and the boys recruited to the training camp. The regular soldiers of Third Company were also eager to go and get time off to enjoy the city._

_Many of the country-boy recruits were in awe at their first sight of Corus, the royal palace up on a hill with the city proper sprawling all around it. I likely would have been impressed too if I had never left the town of Zephyr, but my time spent in Port Caynn had taken away my wonder for big cities. I knew they could be complicated and sinister places, especially for a woman._

_I shouldn't be writing or even thinking this. I am a soldier now. Anyone who tries to mess with me will suffer consequences—_

_The training camp, however, was right outside Corus. We, the fresh-faced boys and I, were left there as the body of Third Company went on into the city. I was shuffled into a line where they looked us over and threw a few sets of our sized uniform to each one of us. We got one dress uniform with finely embroidered silver trim. I stared down at the rich, neatly folded fabric and ran my fingers over it until the boy behind me cleared his throat for me to move on and follow the others in front of me._

_We lined up straight across, clutching our stacks of clothing to our chests. A rough-looking soldier with a scar across one eye approached us. He was our training master. We only needed to call him 'Sir', and as far as any of us were concerned, that was the name his mother gave him. He looked us all up and down with his head turned to the side. I realized then that his scarred eye was unseeing._

_He walked down the line like this and then made his way back up it, barking out assignments to each recruit. Some became pike men and a bunch of the younger boys were sent to be grooms. Others joined me. "You'll go into the archery unit," he growled in my face, "too scrawny for hand-to-hand." And my military career had been decided, just like that._

_We, the new archers, were shuffled over to the archery teacher. On our first day we were trained to strengthen our arms with various stretches and exercises. One idea was drilled into us this session: the strength of our arms gave us our power._

_After an agonizing afternoon—my arms could barely support me for three pushups—we were fed and shown to our barracks. Mine were mercifully separate from the men's, a long, low building near a small woman's privy. I entered a room with two rows of bunk beds, nine in total. It seemed that no one had much faith in women joining the Own if they only allowed for a maximum of eighteen to live here. I chose one of the bottom bunks in the middle of the room, but it felt empty and lonely as I drifted off to sleep._

_The next day I was sent to the archery court for hours of practice. I had been placed with a few boys to the closest targets, given the lightest bows and arrows. We were the beginners group, starting from scratch._

_I was a horrible shot. My arms wobbled from the strain. My arrows always fell short. I was humiliated as all the boys managed to hit the target a few paces away._

_I remember questioning my decision to join the Own at that moment. I was alone. No one spoke to me. I was a freak, the only woman to fall for Commander Keladry's grand prank._

_Then I heard them. That gods-blessed afternoon six women walked up to the archery courts, already changed into training uniforms. Later, I would discover that they were fresh recruits from the more liberal parts of Corus, but at that moment they were just my saviors. I was not alone anymore._

_As they were handed their bows and arrows, the archery master adjusted my stance and watched me release another shot. This one planted itself into the bottom edge of the target, but at least it made it. I was given a fresh burst of confidence._

_Some of the boys sniggered. It had taken me hours to achieve what they had done in minutes. As the other women joined the group, the teacher gave us a little speech. "Women always learn combat faster, I hear, because they listen. They don't try to act macho or show off—they do what they're told by their teachers." That shut up those boys, at least for that day._

_All us women took his words to heart and practiced, giving each other encouraging smiles. I didn't dare introduce myself to them there, not wanting to get caught socializing during training hours. _

* * *

Kel looked up when a knock sounded on her door. "Come in," she called, reluctantly setting the book aside and standing to receive whoever had come to visit at this inopportune moment. When Neal walked in with his ten-year-old daughter, she remembered that she had been invited to private family dinner by Yuki that morning. Kel mentally cursed her forgetfulness; paperwork could really take over your mind if you let it. 

Neal did not seem to notice her slightly disappointed reaction to their appearance. "Mia has something to tell you," he announced in his usual good-humored drawl, pushing the kimono-clad girl forward.

"I'm going for my knighthood, Aunt Kel!" she burst out, unable to contain her excitement like a good Yamani girl. Her shoulder length black hair, long nose, and dark greenish-brown eyes were a perfect mix of her parents' features. Mia was a beauty but also an excellent candidate for combat instuction; she had already been training with the Yamani women's weapons of choice, glaive and _shusuken, _at her mother's insistence.

"That's wonderful, Mia! It's going to be a long hard road, but I'm so proud of you!" the lady knight replied, stepping out from behind her desk to embrace the young girl. She smiled both out of hope of the girl's success and from the memory of a little Seer girl who had once told Kel that this moment would occur. "And how long did it take you to convince your Da?" she asked with a teasing look up at Neal.

The emerald-eyed man put his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I didn't want any hasty decisions, but she's determined. And she has the best godsmother in the world to help her though this. And I hoped you could talk to her about… everything," he finished meaningfully.

Kel nodded in answer to his silent question; the young girl would have to be told about the fights and insults and feelings that would undoubtedly come up as she battled to prove herself. She was prepared to be honest with her godsdaughter as she had been with the three failed girls before her, but Kel also believed that Mia was the most capable of the bunch to become Tortall's third female knight.

The female knight looked down at Mia, her mind already spinning with things to tell and teach to the soon-to-be page. "I can give you some things to start practicing so you'll be ready to face the boys the first day. We can start tomorrow morning. But for now, we had better get to dinner before your mother gets upset."

The three headed down the hall toward the suite of rooms assigned to the chief palace healer, and the journal was left open and momentarily forgotten on Kel's desk once more.


	5. The Sergeant

_Author's Note_: I made sure to pay attention to the journal's word choice. It's hard to keep my diction out of my character's writing ;) As always, read and review, s'il vous plait. It does a heart good to read that people are enjoying its story!

**The Sergeant**

_I didn't really get to chat with the women until that night when we were safely back in our bunkhouse. It turned out that five of them were friends from a defense class taught by Lalasa, a dressmaker, in her shop after hours. One of the younger ones, Jessine at seventeen, was a very bubbly girl who told me this. She added, "We're goin' to ask her to take in our dress uniforms too—make 'em fit better. Maybe one day she can even make a women's uniform that's a bit nicer, ya know?"_

_I was glad that she chose the bed next to mine. She is only a year younger than me but the life I have known makes me feel as old as her mother—I want to make sure she is taken care of._

"_Go to sleep, Jessine," one of her friends called. "The Master says that defense classes start tomorrow. We'll show 'em all what we know won't we gals?" The other women let out a mix of giggles and shouts that caused me to smile in the privacy of the darkness. I sure wasn't alone anymore. _

_To my surprise the next morning, Orri Smythson was our defense teacher. I could've sworn that his eye lingered on me a little longer than the other girls (I had known him the longest, I guess) as he gave his 'welcoming' speech. The main idea of it: "You must keep yourself out of harm's way. As archers you stay behind where it is 'safe' when others fight, but you are just as important to the battle. Your arrow, well-aimed, can save a comrade's life. Never forget that."_

_We spent the mornings learning basic hand-to-hand defense and the afternoons, archery. Defense was—interesting. The girls all talked about how handsome Orri was, which he was, I suppose. He was tall, but not tall enough to need fancy lady's heeled shoes to match his gaze as equals. His dirty blond hair was always finger-combed down. His eyes were intense and interested even when he talked to us girls. And he had a soldier's build, of course._

_What made it worse was that there were seven women, so when we had to pair off, one girl was left out. Since the men of the Own wanted nothing to do with us—you'd have thought we had the Fever or something—Orri would be our extra member. The girls would spend the night before arguing over who got him the next day, and eventually a rotation started. I had no part in it, so I was the only woman who _didn't_ spar with Orri, which was probably very odd-seeming in its own way…_

_This was how the next four months of my life went—training until I could fend off attackers or shoot them with perfect aim._

_Then today we got orders. We are to go to the southwest where some Immortals are causing problems and hurting villagers. I was assigned my own quiver and bow and lined up with my squad. Three other women, including Jessine, are in it under Sergeant Orri. Besides hand-to-hand combat, he knows how to make an arrow sing with speed and accuracy. I've seen him practicing some mornings before we have to go to his defense classes._

_I bought this journal in the Corus markets walking with the girls a few afternoons ago on our day off. They showed me all the places they grew up and worked and I met Lalasa the dressmaker they always talk about. Apparently she was Commander Keladry's maid when she was a page. I've been writing in all my spare time since then. I think I need to remind myself why I am here and what I am doing. People need to know about the women of the King's Own, and I hope this book will remember what I will forget._

_We leave tomorrow morning, so I must go to sleep and hope that I can write again on the road._

_

* * *

_

_I went into battle today, or 'saw the kraken' as the boys say. Luckily, we didn't actually see a _kraken_, but we saw a score of different Immortals that were almost as bad. Archers in my squad were lined up on the crest of a hill hidden among the trees. When the spidrens started swarming up to us, I just started shooting. I don't think I actually killed anything though. A mage yelled out something, and fire jumped all over them. They turned back, and we didn't see anything else until it was over._

_I did nothing. In my first battle I let off a few shots, but didn't get anything. I just thought, _Am I worthless?

_After dinner, I was heading back to the tent I shared with Jessine and saw Orri sitting alone by a campfire. In the last few months, I had overheard lots of awful things the men said about us girls, but for the most part they just ignored us, pretending we weren't their fellow soldiers. Why was Orri, in comparison, so kind? He would actually make eye contact with us and talk to us, for godsakes!_

_I asked him all this. He said he was from around Pirate's Swoop. The Lioness helped his village hundreds of times, whether in defense or in simply needing food to last out the winter. He asked me, "Why shouldn't the Own allow women to help in any way they can, even if it means taking up arms? You all did a fine job this afternoon, so why deny your ability to save lives?"_

_Something to think about—him and me. I mean, just him supporting women in the Own and me being one of them…_

_

* * *

_

Kel sighed. The beginnings of a headache were creeping to her temples. She was tempted to go to Neal for an easy fix but settled for making herself some tea. The Lady Knight was a little tired of reading about this blossoming relationship in the Own. She had brought the sexes together in arms, but now it seemed like all they wanted to do was fall into _each others'_ arms!

Not that she could blame them, nor was Kel herself innocent considering her days (and nights) spent with Cleon and Dom. Being a warrior guaranteed nothing; a wound could change your life or end it forever. Knowing that you could die in a battle could be a spur or a deterrent for romancing. According to the amount of resignation requests due to marriage that the Commander of the King's Own saw, many decided that fighting was the more risky way and chose the road of love.

It was hard for this Lady Knight to accept this. Sometimes she could just be happy for her soldiers, but other times… She would be furious that they could give up all their training and hard work and obligations to their country for solely personal reasons.

Then she would remember that not everyone shared her dream of fighting and sense of honor. Some people, like this journal's authoress, joined the Own for money and work rather than some great feeling of duty. Kel blamed her noble upbringing for her need and desire to be the 'Protector of the Small,' not that it was a bad thing though.

She did not regret the life she chose. She sometimes just wondered, like everyone does, what else she could have done with it.

Kel shook her head to clear these thoughts. What other aspect of her life would this strange journal make her consider?


	6. The Romance

_Author's Note:_ Over 70 views and only 3 reviews? How disappointing! There is only one more chapter after this, I'm afraid to say. I have loved writing this piece and been happily surprised at the kind reviews it has gotten. Please leave your thoughts as it draws to a close...

**The Romance**

After sipping a cup of tea, Kel was in a better mindset to continue the journal. She sat behind her desk and even went so far as to prop her booted feet on an empty corner, settling in for a long reading session.

* * *

_Apparently I'm a hero. It's late into the night but I have only just managed to escape the celebrating crowd. The boys are all full of drink from the town's taverns—the taps will probably run dry soon. I can't say I didn't have some too since everyone was buying me a pint in congratulations and you can't say no to that. The boys treated me as an equal, a brother-in-arms. It seems a person only has to kill a hurrock to become a hero, and then everyone wants to talk to their hero. Even boys who have been ignoring you for months suddenly become your friends._

_I've jumped ahead again… See, today was the second battle of my life. I hardly remember what happened. All I remember is that we were given some griffin fletched arrows for this battle. We had been taught in training that they never miss, but I had never handled one before. They were too precious to use just for practice._

_Tons of soldiers were fighting, the archers' orders being to try to pick off the flying beasts especially. It was more a lucky shot then, me being able to point the griffin-arrow at the hurrock and let it fly. It caught it right in the heart. The beast didn't suffer, it just dropped down. It was almost sad seeing that fierce Immortal crash down to the ground never to fly again. But, as I heard from everyone tonight, no one was ever able to kill a hurrock like that before. And this Immortal had been making sport of the villagers' children. It deserved to die._

_But did I deserve to kill him? I don't know… Probably any of the boys—or the women—would have been glad to be the hero tonight. Not me for some reason. I wish that I hadn't done it. Why did I have to kill something so beautiful? Maybe if the Wildmage were here she could have talked it into leaving the children alone or leaving altogether. I heard she did something like that before._

_I tried to celebrate and enjoy being in the boys' good favor. My 'heroism' extended to the girls, and now they are all out having a good time being accepted too. But I was tired and too full of thoughts in my mind to lose myself to blind happiness like them. I escaped the tavern and walked back to my tent, staying in the shadows and avoiding the bands of drinking and singing soldiers out on the streets. I suppose the villagers are too thankful for our help to complain about all the noise. Some of them were out celebrating too._

_Sergeant Orri found me on the way back. He was quiet as usual and not drunk like so many of the boys. I suppose it's since he's more seasoned and battle-weary and not so prone to excitement. And maybe he was sad because a boy in our squad died in the fight too. He was killed by a spidren, poor boy. If I hadn't downed a hurrock and caused the celebration, maybe everyone would be thinking of him instead of me._

"_You did good," Orri told me when we met. I thanked him but didn't walk away. His sad face was the reflection of my troubled thoughts. I decided to tell him what was on my mind. I said, "I killed it on accident really. Without the griffin feathers I would have missed. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm so good all of the sudden."_

_His face was covered by shadow, but I knew his eyes studied my face. I stared right back into the dark areas where they were hidden. He told me, "Soldiers need something to celebrate. Too many men died today. The sight of an Immortal who had pulled their comrades to pieces falling dead with one shot is a great triumph for them."_

_I told him I wished that I didn't have to kill it. It was beautiful. Then he laughed! I never heard him laugh in the months I had known him. He said, "That's the difference between male and female soldiers."_

_And I answered, "No. It's just me. The girls don't seem to mind either…"_

_And then he kissed me._

_He just leaned down and did it, and I kissed him right back. The only other man to ever kiss me in my life had ever been my husband, and it was never out of anything but lust. I don't know if Orri loves me or anything, but at least he wanted to kiss me and not expect something else._

_I pulled back because I thought someone might see. But I looked around and saw no one. He didn't kiss me again, but instead pressed something into my palm. It was one of the hurrock's silver talons on a leather cord. I said thank you and walked away. I didn't know what else I could do._

_I don't know if I want to wear it. If Orri saw it, what would he think? I was raised to see gifts as a part of courting, a sign of a promise, but I don't think he meant it like that. If I were any of his other soldiers he would probably have done the same thing, I suppose. But he wouldn't kiss them!_

_I'm tired and I don't want the candlelight to let anyone know I'm hiding in my tent, so I must stop for now. I heard that we were going to try and clean out the spidren's den for once and for all tomorrow, so some rest would be wise._

_

* * *

_

The next page was blank. Kel flipped a few more, slowly realizing that the narrative had stopped for good. What happened next? She knew this woman's life story but not her name or where she was now. Did she simply lose this book? Did she not want to write in it anymore? Was she one of the women who left the Own to marry—a source of Kel's paperwork nightmares? Or was she killed in some skirmish?

The uncertainty chewed at the back of the Lady Knight's mind all that afternoon and evening. When she woke the next morning, the journal was the first thing she thought of. Only when she had settled into a pattern dance in the practice court was she able to clear her mind. As soon as she finished, she noticed Yuki at the fence talking to a familiar man in a travel-rumpled blue uniform that matched her own—except for the commander's badge being that of a captain.

"Captain Domitan!" she called in her best commander voice as she approached them, "You would flirt with pretty ladies before reporting to your commanding officer?" The pair looked over, Yuki hiding her face behind her fan in amusement while Dom smiled broadly.

"I was too afraid to interrupt your pig-sticker practice—a man could get himself hurt doing that. Besides, one has to work up the nerve to talk to a pretty lady such as yourself."

Kel chose to ignore the usual flirtatiousness of her friend and captain, extending her arm to grasp his. "Well now that I'm done, shall we take this up to me office?"

He slid his grasp down her arm to take her hand. "As the lady pleases," Dom told her before kissing the back of her hand.

Kel withdrew her hand and punched his arm lightly in return. "Really, Dom! After all this time you never learn…"

"I could say the same about you, Kel," Dom replied, and she caught a flash of seriousness crossing his blue eyes before they were masked by his usual good humor once more.

The Lady Knight swallowed hard. What was he getting at? Their romance had been brief and so long ago. Kel shook her head slightly—she was assuming too much. She then noticed that Yuki had quietly left, leaving the old friends to catch up on business… and perhaps something else. Kel shook her head quickly. The story of the journal was going to her head; that was all.

Clearing her throat loudly, Kel said, "To my office then." Dom fell into step beside her and began his report on the way there.


	7. The End, The Beginning

_Author's Note_: Well, today is my birthday, and as a present to everyone I decided to post the final chapter :) Thanks to all readers and reviewers for making this story so fun to write! This chapter was actually a lot shorter, but I was inspired to add more Kel/Dom fluff after some of the review comments. Thanks all and enjoy!

**The End, The Beginning**

Commander and captain had finished their official business and were now engaged in exchanging stories and gossip. Dom asked about their friends in the palace, especially on Mia's decision to try for knighthood, while Kel wanted updates on the soldiers she knew in Third Company. It was hard not to be partial as a commander considering how she had known a number of the men under him all the way back in her squire years. And from this launching point, Kel was able to turn the conversation to what was really tugging on her mind. "That journal of the woman that you sent me awhile back…" she began, "Where is she? The writer, I mean."

Dom's merry face grew serious, and he spoke his next quietly. "She died, Kel, back in one of the hurrock skirmishes a few months ago. One of my sergeants was something of a friend to her and gave me the journal after it happened. I probably should have told you in the note… I wasn't thinking."

Kel leaned back in her chair and gazed into the battle tapestry across the room. This was the answer she had suspected and expected considering the abrupt end to the story. "No it's fine…" she trailed off. "Could I speak with this sergeant?" she asked after a moment, already guessing which one it was.

"Of course," Dom replied quickly, feeling guilty for breaking the news this way. He strode over to the door and told a soldier in the corridor outside to go fetch a 'Sergeant Smythson'.

Kel and Dom fell silent as they waited, sipping the Yamani tea she had made. Orri Smythson entered after a few minutes, saluting both his commanding officers. Dom made his excuses and left them to talk.

Kel stood and looked Orri over, piecing together the physical man she saw before her with the idea of him she had read. He was in his early twenties, a professional soldier with a lean, muscular build. But there was a quietness to him that was different from most of the other men in the Own. "Please, Sergeant, have a seat. Tea?" she offered.

He sat in Dom's vacated chair. "No thank you, sir. May I ask what this is about?" Kel had supposed that he would not know about Dom forwarding the journal to her.

"Please, call me Kel." The Lady Knight retook her seat and picked up the small leather-bound book from the edge of her desk. Orri recognized it immediately.

"Ah, I gave that to Captain Dom after… Well, I was her recruiter, so I knew her the longest. She wasn't ever much to look at, but she was determined…" he said quietly, his eyes settled on the journal rather than meeting Kel's gaze.

She paused a moment to study the sergeant's face. "Yes, I read it. That sounds like her. I was wondering what you could add; it ends with the celebration of her victory over the hurrock."

Orri looked down, dirty blond hair half-hiding his face. He must have known that she wrote about the kiss and was embarrassed. Or maybe it was still just hard for him to remember the day she died.

He had to clear his throat before speaking. "In her third skirmish, the mate of the hurrock she killed got her. I saw it happen. It was quick, painless, like how she killed her hurrock." Suddenly though he looked up at his commander and jumped to the woman's defense, protecting her memory as a warrior. "She was a good fighter though—saved the necks of a bunch of my men and women on the field with her bow."

Kel gave a sympathetic smile; she had lost many friends along the way and knew his pain. She replied simply, "Things go wrong and we lose someone we love to rotten luck. But thank you for letting me know her story."

He looked past the Lady Knight, as though he could see something or someone else behind her. "She always did right by me. The least I can do is return the favor." Orri stood abruptly to leave.

But Kel needed to ask him one last thing. "Sergeant Smythson, what was her name? I forgot to ask Dom earlier."

With his head turned, Kel could see the leather cord around his neck with a glint of silver rising above his shirt collar—the hurrock claw necklace. "Kella Sesen," he said. "She wouldn't let us call her 'Kel' though—said she wasn't fit for it."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

He nodded and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Kel leaned back and looked into the battle tapestry once more as she mulled over her thoughts.

Kella Sesen. The name was forever burned into her mind along with the many others who had been under her command or protection and had died. She was yet another woman that Kel had led to an early death.

But Kella was also a woman who Kel had set free. She had been free to choose her own fate, free to choose to fight, and free to choose to die for others. Now she was free from this world that had been hard on her but had never managed to break her, no matter what the circumstances. Kel wished she could have _really_ known Kella. She admired the woman's strength.

Keladry of Mindelan, Lady Knight Commander of the King's Own, had changed a few things in the world. It had never been easy, from her days as the only openly female Tortallan page in hundreds of years to her current post of running the King's Own, but she had brought all the women of Tortall, noble and common, the freedom to choose to fight for what they believed in. And she would continue to do so as long as there was a breath in her body because what she did was not just about her anymore.

It was for Kella Sesen and anyone else who bothered to show up.

* * *

Kel ate dinner in the mess with Neal, Yuki, and Dom that night before they retired to the married couples' family suite for tea and more conversation. It felt like a family reunion, which it was in some ways; Kel was the only technically non-related member of the party. But that did not really matter. They were all old friends, happy to be together again in good health and good spirits. 

Nearing the end of the evening, Neal left to check on his younger two children sleeping in the next room, and Yuki insisted on clearing the tea set herself, leaving Kel and Dom alone. The Yamani woman had brought many of her native customs into the décor of the rooms, including a low tea table with cushions to sit on rather than chairs. The two officers of the Own were lounging across from each other.

The Lady Knight had decided to wear a kimono that night. She did not really know why, but it just felt right to look nice this evening. Kel had chosen a pine green one that her mother had sent her from the Yamani islands for her last birthday. She had to shift her legs to the side because her knees were not used to all the proper kneeling necessary when wearing kimonos.

Dom had shown up in comfortable plain tan breeches and a loose white shirt; he was off-duty, of course, and therefore not required to wear the blue-and-silver uniform that set off his eyes so nicely. Not that Kel was thinking about his eyes or anything.

He broke the silence with a question. "Did you learn what you wanted from Smythson?"

"Yes," she answered, her hazel eyes meeting blue ones. "He finished the story for me. I wish I had bothered to meet Kella before. I checked the rolls; she was the first woman to sign up for the Own."

"I remember meeting her," Dom replied, leaning forward. "She was a slip of a girl wearing a muddy dress. She had very intense dark eyes, like she was daring anyone to send her packing. I figured that once we got some food in her and muscle on her she'd be as good as anyone. She never caused a single complaint either, mostly stuck to herself, and that's all a captain can ask for, really. And her shot at that hurrock was incredible—I bet she could've won tournaments with that bow if she hadn't been killed."

Kel nodded. She was glad that Kella had been able to work on her talent and prove herself just as worthwhile as anyone. That was what she said she had wanted: to have somewhere to go to be useful. But she did not have a chance to pursue other things, like Orri.

"Dom, I think I'll go out with you… I mean all of Third Company next week to relieve First on the coast," she announced. "The rebuilding is going to take longer than we thought, and I've been wasting my time doing too much desk work lately."

He smiled. "You're always welcome to supervise, Mother, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to pick up a single hammer. I don't want to be responsible for you losing fingers."

"Who's losing fingers?" Neal asked as he walked back into the room.

"No one," Dom told him as he winked at Kel. "I think I can protect the Protector of the Small from herself."

Kel did not seem to mind that thought.

* * *

'Kella' means 'warrior' in Celtic/Gaelic, and 'Sesen' means 'to wish for more' from African origins. 


End file.
